Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of The Rings. Though I wished I owned the actors and actresses… ::winks::
Prologue:
Winter in Rivendell brought a sense of elation to the much younger Elven folk, but the rest of the elves suppressed the stirring unrest with silent stoicism. The ominous threat of the Dark Lord Sauron still revealed its presence once in a while to the inhabitants of Rivendell, in the form of the black shadowy fog that veiled the Misty Mountains.
The last autumn leaf drifted slowly down to the ground on the placid breeze, a radiant tint of red and gold, its sharp edges glinting in the fast fading sunlight. It rarely snowed in Rivendell, and this winter showed no sign of breaking the 'tradition'. The wind was icy and went blustering about the city, seeping through cracks in the closed doors, chilling the inhabitants to the bone. The skies seemed darker than usual, and great billowing clouds rolled past each day. But other than that, Rivendell was just the same Elven city in winter's cold grasp.
The elves still went about their daily work, but most folk kept indoors where merry flames spread warmth and a dose of cheer through the large halls of the Elven homes.
There was one Elf, however, who spent most of her time out of doors, wandering through the forests, though bare of leaves the trees were. The forest had been like her home, and being with the trees and hearing their whispery voices call faintly to each other seemed soothing to her tensed nerves. For it was Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond who wandered the forests at unearthly times in the night, clad in an Elven cloak that blended into a deep hue of emerald.
Tonight was a night no different from any other. The moon hung like a great vivid orb in the sky, shrouded by wispy black clouds, and a gusty bought of wind breezed through the Misty Mountains, wailing past the deep valley set in its foothills and into Rivendell.
Arwen shuddered and drew the cloak tighter around her slender shoulders. Her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and the wind seemed to catch the ends of her silver and blue mantle. Wind and Elven fabric danced an elegant waltz in the cold air. But Arwen's fair features were filled with fretfulness and foreboding, such that the colour of her skin seemed a shade of deathly white, and her arms now hung flaccidly at her side.
Arwen, though distraught as she was, still seemed so exquisite. There she stood, flanked by the tall thin trees that gleamed silver in the night. A sliver of moonlight shone through a rift in the trees, lighting up Arwen's face, her brown, perfectly domed eyebrows and her full pinkish lips.
The heart-shaped face of the Elven Princess was looking towards the West, where erratic streaks of brilliant orange beams illuminated the shadowy sky. Then she heard it, barely audible but yet still clear; the monotonous drumbeats seemed unable to keep in pace with the rapid palpitating of the elf's heart.
Arwen lifted her chin towards the darkening sky and spoke. But even as the words departed from her lips, the wind took them, rising high into the cold air, and carried them off into the night so that all Arwen had said was merely a whisper, a prayer. ~Estel… Estel…~
Arwen let fall her chin, and a pearly tear eased out from her eye, making its way trickling down her colourless cheeks and finally, trembling at the edge of her chin, fell, gradually at first but then gaining speed every second so that it hit the soft earth with barely a splash.
Then slowly she turned away from the forest, and stumbled blindly back to the palace of majestic white marble etched vividly against the blue backdrop of Rivendell.
~*~
The sun was setting now, and with failing strength it cast its feeble rays out over Middle-Earth, dyeing the sky a flaming red and orange. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli set camp under a wide spreading tree. Gimli was presently engaged in the task of gathering firewood for a little blaze, and Aragorn crouched low on the ground scrutinizing what an ignorant eye would have overlooked, bits of trampled and soiled grass. Only Legolas had nothing to do. He stood with his back to the setting sun, and peered into the distance intently. Then Legolas saw the faint flicker of that same orange beam he had been following for weeks now.
Legolas felt someone come up from behind him, but he did not turn around.
"Still there?" Aragorn asked, putting one hand to his somewhat bristly chin and rubbing it thoughtfully. A few strands of his wild, unkempt dark hair were matted to his face, and he brushed them off impatiently. His cheeks seemed sunken and his eyes seemed hollow, their exciting sparkle almost fading into oblivion.
Legolas turned around and caught a glimpse of Gimli bending over a pile of dried twigs and undergrowth, then faced the direction in which he had been looking at. "I do not know what it means. Yet I feel something. Evil nonetheless. But Aragorn, we must go further. We have no other choice," he said, and sighed as he spoke. Never before had he felt so weary, so old.
Aragorn cast a glance in Legolas's direction. The elf was clad in mossy green and tree-bark brown, and the fine layers of his clothing blew gently in the breeze. Legolas's quiver was slung over his back, and Aragorn perceived that his bow was clutched tightly in his fist. Aragorn had never seen Legolas so tensed before. Usually Legolas was the only cheerful member of their company, treading the Earth with his light feet and occasionally bursting into a jovial song until Gimli growled at him to stop.
"When will we get to Mordor?" Legolas broke through the awkward silence at last, turning his head a fraction to look at Aragorn. "From here to Mordor is 12 leagues if we travel on foot, starting at dawn tomorrow," Aragorn did the mental calculation in his mind. Legolas stared back in the direction of Mordor. "Watch the evil no more, Legolas. You must get some rest if we are to start out at dawn. See! Gimli has done so!" Aragorn jerked his head in the direction of the dwarf, and in the fading light Legolas could just make out his bulky friend curled up contentedly beside the burning fire.
Legolas managed a small, strained smile. "Then I will do just so. For even Elves need their share of sleep," he gave a high tinkling laugh that sounded like bells and strode briskly over to the fire. He curled up beside the fire opposite Gimli, and very soon the sound of Gimli's intense snoring and Legolas's deep breathing filled Aragorn's ears.
Now Aragorn stared at the moon in the sky, and let his thoughts wander. Then the image of Arwen swam into his thoughts, and Aragorn felt his heart ache. He saw the russet tresses, her enrapturing elvish smile, the tender feel of her hand in his…
Then suddenly the vision dissipated as a loud shot erupted into the air, breaking the peaceful silence. Aragorn started, and his hand reached instinctively for Anduril at his side. Legolas sprang up from the ground, reaching for his precious bow that lay at his feet. Gimli muttered incomprehensibly and rolled over, then opened one eye, and, seeing his two counterparts in combat position, scrambled up from the ground, axe in hand.
"What was that sound?" Legolas whispered. But the night air was silent now, and his voice seemed unbearably loud in the stillness of the twilight. Gimli, furious that his precious sleep had been interrupted, glared around at the bushes surrounding the tree, and opened his mouth to say something.
"Shhh…" Aragorn hushed the indignant dwarf. "Listen," was the only other word he said.
The three strained their ears to listen. Legolas was the first to hear the sound. It was a rustle, a rustle in the bushes behind Aragorn. The elf motioned the ranger, who took a step back and reached out to push aside the vegetation. Legolas reached behind him and pulled out an arrow. Long, sleek and polished, it gleamed an organic green in the patch of moonlight that shone on it.
With a whish and a shoom, the arrow from Legolas's bow sped through the air. It crashed into the bushes and a split second later there came an agonizing cry that rang loud into the night, followed by a hollow sounding thump. Aragorn sprang forward nimbly and pushed the bushes apart, exposing the unfortunate victim.
An orc lay on the ground, eyes wide open. It's scrawny, black withered hands still clutched desperately at the arrow, in what looked like a fruitless attempt to pull the weapon out. The orc was clad in a shirt of dirty leather and hairy black breeches. Over this tunic was a coat of ring-mail, and a black cap with an iron rim over its shrunken looking head. Aragorn stepped forward, his eyes brushing over the orc. "It's dead," he announced. Legolas, now standing next to Gimli, leaned to his friend and whispered, "One for me." This statement caused the dwarf to grow an autumn scarlet in the face in mock anger.
Then suddenly Legolas whirled around and sent another arrow flying into the bushes behind him. A loud wail rang out, and then a clunk. "Orcs! All around!" Legolas cried anxiously as he let fly another green arrow at a quaking bush ten paces away. It emitted a loud squawk and then a bony green hand fell out of the bush.
Then suddenly, bright round eyes popped out from behind all the bushes, exposing leering and slobbering orc faces, all greedy for the taste of fresh meat… Aragorn gave a sharp intake of breath, and Gimli growled. The orcs charged, hundreds of them swarmed out from behind bushes, brandishing clubs and daggers that shone menacingly.
The trio sprang into action. Aragorn rushed forward and gave a mighty blow, decapitating an orc swiftly. Gimli gave an almighty roar and his axe silenced two orcs at once. "Two for me!" Gimli called to Legolas; they were standing back to back with each other. Arrows were flying in all directions, and Legolas's hands were moving so fast they seemed just a beige blur. "You have to try better than that Gimli son of Gloin! For I have slain twenty already!" he cried cheerfully as his arrow stroke another ill-fated orc, who fell silently.
Very soon bodies of dead and grievously wounded orcs littered the ground; the remaining orcs had fled off in the direction of the forest. Gimli lay panting on the ground, bloodied axe by his side. He had slain in total thirty-eight orcs, and had beaten Legolas by two orcs. By now the light of the moon had grown faint, soon to be replaced by the burning splendour of the morning sun. Aragorn stood upright and rigid, tracing the best route for which they were to take. Legolas was gathering arrows to fill his quiver, which had only ten arrows left to hold.
The sun came up with deathly silence, dispersing dark shadows and lighting up the murky spaces in between the forest. But no matter how bright her light was she could not vanquish the other dark forces that had been sent by the evil one, Sauron.
"We best be leaving soon," Aragorn finally said as he turned to the other two. "The Dark Lord's forces are massing; the Ringbearer is left with barely a chance now."
Legolas stood up and packed a last arrow into his now full quiver. He gave Aragorn a grim smile and nodded understandingly. Gimli picked up his axe and wiped it on the ground, leaving smears of orc blood. Then the robust dwarf stood up, looking slightly refreshed.
~*~
The heat from the midday sun beat down upon the backs of the three travellers, causing sweat to trickle down into their garments. It felt as though water was continuously being poured down into their shirts. Uneasiness had taken over Aragorn, and he seemed to look back down the path they were taking every few seconds.
Legolas looked at the tall figure of the man beside him, his face weathered by life's experiences, and already signs of the years of toil and wandering in the mountains were etched on his face. Aragorn was clad in a suit of dark brown, and his sword Anduril hung at his side, occasionally brushing against the soft fabric of his pants. Legolas perceived the taut muscles on Aragorn's jaw and the faraway look in his eyes and realised that he too was thinking about the consequences of their actions.
Mordor was a vile place, a dying land where it was rumoured that nothing could grow there. Seeds that somehow found their way to Mordor shrivelled up within a day and grew no more.
Once Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli ventured into Mordor, they would have to fight to the end to get out again. The forces of the Dark Lord were not endless but yet they were not few either, and hope grew dim in the hearts of the three. Legolas felt his spirit dampen, and he began to sing softly to himself, his clear voice sounded so soothing and calm that even Gimli did not bother stopping the elf.
In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rise the Sun
And stars forever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the stars farewell.
In western lands beneath the Sun
The rivers may flow deep,
The children sing, the horses run
As wild and free can be.
Or maybe 'tis a lovely day
And bright the sunshine splays,
For the sky is never grey, and naught
can make my heart not stay.
Legolas's voice held the note loud and clear, and there came a loud sniff. Gimli was using his scraggly red beard to wipe off a tear from his face. Upon seeing this, Aragorn let out a little laughter, Legolas smiled and offered some lembas to Gimli. For a while the mood was lightened, but only for a while.
With their hearts floating high and chests held out proudly, Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli carried on with their journey, to fulfill their ultimate purpose and what came after that none of them quite knew. What would happen to them along the way they did not really care. For they were a team; united against one Evil, one Dark Lord.
And the two tall figures and the gawkily stunted one made their way, and the sun followed them past the majestic hills, across the verdant plains and into dense forests and reeking mires, all the way its brilliant rays shining out across Middle-Earth.
Author's Note: That's it for the prologue! Next chapter coming soon!